


Sweet

by yukiawison



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 00:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7383034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiawison/pseuds/yukiawison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If only he could forget where they were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> This is old. I haven't seen the newest season I'm sorry I'm a bad fan. :O

Dr. Turner didn't expect to hear the chorus of crashing that greeted him as he walked into Nonnatus House. 

"Hello?" He walked into the kitchen and took in the sight of Sister Bernadette tangled in a mess of upset mixing bowls and batter drenched cookbooks. She looked at him surprised with flour all over her face. 

"Dr. Turner! Greetings," she looked up at him. "I wasn't expecting you."

"What are you doing?" He asked gently, leaning on the door frame and trying to keep the smile off his face. She was so endearing sometimes and he forgot himself.

"Making cookies," she replied. "The church bazar is tomorrow and everyone else was busy."

"They left you all alone to make the cookies?"

"Well," she said sheepishly, brushing some of the flour from her nose. "Trixie was supposed to help but she got called for a delivery."

"Did you need something?" She asked, collecting the knocked over mixing bowl. 

"Oh no, just stopping by." To see you, he didn't add. "Would you like some help?"

"Would you?" She brightened. "That would be amazing Dr. Turner."

"Of course, what can I do for you?" Because I'd do anything for you.

"If you could take this mixing bowl while I get the first tray out of the oven that would be lovely." She handed him the bowl and reached for the oven mitts. The scent of chocolate chip cookies filled the small kitchen and she smiled down at her work. 

"Well maybe you didn't need any help after all." The cookies looked perfect. 

"The first batch perhaps but I need you for the second."

An 'I need you' even if it was about cookies was enough to make his heart pound.

"Can you get me a cup of flour?" She asked and he scrambled for a measuring cup. She cracked several eggs in the bowl and dumped in the flour, getting more of it on her nose in the process.

She gave him the spoon to mix. "We've got three batches to go," she said softly, meeting his eyes for a bit too long. She flushed slightly, and the flour stood out even more starkly on the tip of her nose. 

She handed him a spoon to scoop out balls of the soft dough onto a baking sheet. They put the sheets in and she set the timer. He turned on the radio.

She leaned on the counter, humming along with her glasses slightly askew.

"What all are they going to have at the bazar?" He asked.

"Oh, the bake sale, handicrafts, games for the children, dancing..." She trailed off. 

He smiled slightly. Her eyes were trained on the floor. "Do you dance Sister Bernadette?"

"I've never tried," she replied, looking especially small and sweet in her habit.

"Would you..." He nearly stopped himself. Surely she wouldn't or couldn't dance with him, even alone I'm the kitchen of Nonnatus House. Surely that was too close, too personal. "Care to dance with me?"

She looked at him sheepishly and nodded. A slight, nervous nod. The radio was still playing, a slow song with a trumpet melody. He extended his hand and she took it. He put a gentle hand on her waist and she placed hers on his shoulder. They were close, chests nearly touching. She took a step back and he followed suit. He walked her through a few steps and she kept her eyes on their feet.

When she had gotten it she looked up to him with a smile, as if she had forgotten herself, forgotten where they were and who they were. God if she could look at him like that forever. He'd have faith if he had her by his side. 

But he couldn't forget himself. She was a nun, a nun he was harboring feelings for. She was a nun and they were dancing to a love song.

He was going to say something. Something he had no place to say but wanted to desperately. 

I think about you all the time. I think you're beautiful. I want to dance and make cookies and talk with you for hours. If things were different I'd marry you right here.

The timer dinged. She jumped back, the trance broken. The radio hissed into well timed static and she reached for the oven mitts. 

"This batch looks good," she muttered. "And thank you." She set the tray on the stovetop. "For showing me how to dance. I doubt it will be a useful skill in my way of life, but it's nice to know."

"Yes," he said dumbly. "I suppose it is."

She started sliding the cookies off the sheet. "You have some flour on your nose." He didn't mention that it had been there for awhile.

She flushed scarlet and brushed her nose. "Thank you."

"Any time." He checked his watch. "I should go." 

He thought of her that night, like he did every night in that dreamy state just before sleep. He thought of her eyes and her smile and her kind words. There would always be nights like this, nights of missing what he never had.

When he first kissed her she tasted like sugar. It reminded him of that day. He put his hands on her waist and it was like he was back there in the kitchen of Nonnatus House dancing to the staticy radio with a secret in his heart.

The best part of this sensation was realizing that it wasn't a secret anymore. There was nothing to hide because he was kissing her and she was kissing him back.


End file.
